Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The doorbell rang one Saturday afternoon. Hilda was ironing one of Otto’s brown shirts, making sure his arm creases were pressed firmly and in the right place. She was delighted to find that the visitor was Karl. He kissed her cheek as he entered, throwing his hat on a hall chair.
‘Carry on, Hilda. Don’t let me stop you.’
‘I’m ready for a break,’ she said, skipping through to the kitchen to make coffee.
‘No second thoughts about us taking Otto?’ Karl called.
‘No, none. Of course not. I thought it was all settled. Renate is comfortable with it, isn’t she?’
Karl followed her into the kitchen and reached for cups and sugar bowl from the cupboard.
‘We’d both have Otto to stay any time. That’s not my worry,’ he said placing the bowl and cups on the table.
‘Something else on your mind, then?’ She clutched the handle of the coffee percolator, a little apprehensive.
‘A couple of things have been bothering me. One is Otto’s lack of regular education because of his frequent Hitler Youth meetings. It’s run on strict activity lines. No time for proper education. It’s certainly not like the Boy Scouts.’
‘No, banned for almost two years now. How Otto loved the Scouts.’
‘Yes, I know he did. However, I’m even more concerned about what happens after the Hitler Youth. He told me he’ll be with the 17th Hamburg Motorized Unit.’
Hilda stirred a spoonful of sugar into Karl’s cup. ‘It’s almost certain that they are drafted into the army at that age,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty well unstoppable. Otto told me as much. He reckons he’ll only be with you for a short while.’ She tapped the side of the teaspoon against the lip of the cup.
‘Hilda, it’s not that he’s naive or gullible. He’s going with many other boys, and they are all in the same situation. But I’ll tell you one thing I am certain of.’
They sat opposite each other in the warm kitchen. Hilda handed her brother-in-law the cup of coffee.
‘Thank you. Mm, that’s good. Yes, there can be little doubt we are heading for war. The allegiances that are forming is another matter for concern. Hitler sees Britain as Aryan, and is quite opposed to a communist nation taking over Europe. He assumes Britain will not oppose him. I hope that’s the case too. However, it’s a long way from certain. We cannot be sure.’
Hilda could not fault Karl’s conclusion. The future looked bleak. Once more, the nations sharpened their swords.
‘That is why I think you should consider staying in Scotland as long as you can, or at least until we see which way the wind is blowing. You follow me?’
She bit her lower lip. ‘And how long could that be?’ she asked
‘You could help run the family hotel for a while. I am sure your parents would appreciate that,’ he said.
The idea caught her off-balance, but it was a pleasing one, for the moment anyway. ‘How long do you think the authorities here will let me stay?’
‘Hilda, I think you’ve forgotten. You have an additional status, haven’t you? Remember what troubles it caused last time there was war, when you didn’t have dual nationality? I think you could put it to good use now.’
A smile came over Hilda’s face. ‘Then a one-way ticket for the time being?’
‘Exactly.’ Karl smiled, seemingly pleased with her decision.
Hilda booked passage on a ship a sailing from Hamburg on 30th September, and began to get her luggage together. She would take as much of her own property as possible to Scotland, travelling with a full suitcase, a small black bag and her handbag, and sending two large trunks ahead. She sorted out what she would need and what could stay.
She made a seminal decision: she would place the house in Otto’s name when he turned twenty-one. That was not so many years away, and she was not sure when she would return.
One day she started a notebook of instructions for Otto, about cooking, laundry and shopping. The exercise book was covered in a greaseproof paper first, then in leftover wallpaper from the lounge, which Willy had quite recently redecorated. On the front cover, she wrote in bold ink: OTTO’S BUCH Kocher; Bugelservice, Waschen und Einkaufen. Satisfied with her work, she opened her oboe case and began to play a piece by Mozart. During the allegro section, there was a knock at the door. She stopped playing immediately; perhaps it was Renate, or a friend for Otto. She ran to the door.
When she opened it, the blood drained from her face and her heart began to flutter.
‘Oh. Herr Eicke. I was not expecting you.’
‘No, Frau Richter. I have been standing outside your front door for the past few minutes. You play Mozart particularly well.’
‘You know your music, Herr Eicke,’ she said, showing him an appreciative smile.
‘Only that it is Mozart. You will have to enlighten me as to which piece you were playing.’
‘It was The Hostias from Mozart’s Requiem in D minor K626. Not usually played by the oboe of course. I was adapting it from the choral part.’
‘Ah... I see.’ Herr Eicke entered the house uninvited. Hilda stood aside to let him in. He stepped over one of the suitcases with an exaggerated high step.
‘The sitting room is on the left, Herr Eicke.’
He opened the door and strode with purpose into the centre of the room. ‘I intended to see you before you returned to Scotland. Sorry I was too busy to visit you sooner.’ He held his hands behind his back, and she heard one hand tapping the other impatiently.
‘You knew I was returning to visit my parents?’ she asked, her throat as dry as the desert.
‘If my wife and I go on holiday, as we did to Bad Liebensel last year, we each take one case. That is more than sufficient. I see you are packing two trunks.’ He pointed towards the hall.
‘I am taking quite a lot as you can see, to make the house less congested.’
His eyes lingered on the cases. ‘I see. Yes, Otto told me. Well, in fact he didn’t. It was a change of address for his next of kin that alerted me to your intentions. Not just a short visit abroad, I suspect. He has named Karl and Renate Richter as his guardians.’ He paused for a moment to let this sink in. ‘A little unusual, perhaps?’
Hilda was on edge. ‘Otto is now the man of the house and I wish him to take greater responsibility. I cannot say how long I will be in Scotland, of course. I have family and friends there as well as in Hamburg. But you can assume that I shall return before too long.’
‘I understand, Frau Richter. And I wish you a safe voyage.’ He gave her a wide smile as if approving her trip. That was a relief.
‘Thank you,’ she said, hoping he had said everything he wished to. But it was not to be.
‘You will leave with fond memories of our land, and of course, your much respected late husband.’
‘Naturally.’ She found herself folding her arms defensively.
‘And Karl and Renate, and especially Otto, you will miss them?’
She was losing her patience with him. ‘Herr Eicke, these are my family. Of course I’ll miss them, but I am returning I do assure you. Surely my travel arrangements do not require so much of your attention?’ She felt a mist of anger begin to rise.
‘You are quite right. Of course I would not interfere with domestic arrangements.’
Herr Eicke stood up, walked to the window and gazed up and down the street. She watched him, sensing that his pose was somewhat staged, as if to say, Look at me now, see how important I have become.
He turned round smartly. ‘We are all insignificant as individuals. Together we realize Germany is on its way to recapturing its prominent and rightful position in Europe once more, and that England is, how shall I say, sympathetic to our cause, we hope.’
She hid a smile. ‘It always pleases me to hear that Germany has so much in common with England, or to be more precise, Britain.’
He thought about what she said for a moment ‘Forgive me. Yes, Great Britain, you are right of course. The British royal family has Hanoverian connections, the English are Saxons from central Europe, and of course the Scots are pure Viking Aryan stock, is it not so?’
‘Well, some are. Most are lowland Scots of Irish descent.’ The confrontation eased and Hilda relaxed eager to bring the conversation to an end. ‘Why should this interest you?’
Herr Eicke took a cigarette from a silver case emblazoned with a black swastika on a red background. He lit up and inhaled a second time before blowing a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. Then he turned to look at her. His eyes seemed to be closer together than ever, his eyebrows almost colliding. Eventually he said, ‘Since 1912 you have been a German wife. You will be the mother of a brave German soldier soon and so I expect you will retain a firm loyalty to the ideals of our Fatherland in all its aspects?’
Hilda felt the atmosphere change for the worse. ‘Yes, of course,’ she replied firmly, keen for her conviction to appear genuine.
‘It would be good if you would keep in touch with me, not on a personal basis of course, although I would always value your friendship, if it were granted.’
Hilda's lips tightened. ‘I am confused, Herr Eicke. I am going to be in Scotland for a while. I cannot see how I could be of interest or assistance to you when I am there.’
‘Elgin is in the north of Scotland, isn’t it?’ he asked curtly.
‘How do you know that?’ Suddenly she was on edge.
‘Otto has only told the truth. He told me you would be staying with your parents in Elgin at their hotel, is that not so?’
‘Well, of course I have to go somewhere when I arrive, and it is my parents’ home.’
‘Of course.’ Herr Eicke placed his cigarette in the ashtray, took off his spectacles and began to clean them meticulously with his party handkerchief, his expression growing more and more solemn. ‘We have our contacts in that area.’
Hilda let out a gasp of astonishment. ‘I doubt that, Herr Eicke. What a claim. It is in a remote part of Scotland, and it is most unlikely that you have German agents there. It would be a waste of their time.’ She laughed at the thought of German men entering Mr David Harvie’s bakers shop in Elgin without being noticed. Herr Eicke’s pompous assertion broke the ice that was beginning to form between them, and introduced a little humour.
Herr Eicke seemed uncomfortable as he stubbed out his cigarette into the ashtray beside the fire. ‘You know the airbase at Lossiemouth and the garrison fort at Fort George?’ he asked.
Cold sweat trickled down Hilda’s back as she realized Eicke was quite serious, and was playing his hand with caution and precision. A moment’s silence seemed to pass at snail’s pace. The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall stopped as it prepared to strike four.
‘If you already know about these places, what use am I likely to be?’ she asked guardedly.
‘Frau Richter, there are bases we would need if there was war against Russia and a naval attack on our country. We would rely on the British in such an event. If they refused, well... we would have to take the matter into our own hands. I'm sure you understand?’
‘I see. You need British assistance.’
‘Exactly. Our agents may not speak such fluent English as you do. They may need some help, some reassurance perhaps. Or even just the opportunity to speak to someone who is familiar with both languages and cultures and shares their love of the Fatherland.’
She felt trapped. ‘I would have no hesitation in helping any stranger who needed it, whether they were German or any other nationality.’
Eicke gave a long sigh. ‘Yes, true, I am sure you would. But if there should be a war, would you help our cause? In fact, Frau Richter, exactly where would your loyalties lie?’
This question had been at the forefront of her mind many times over the last few months, and she had gone to great pains to avoid answering it. She turned away from Herr Eicke in an attempt to compose herself.
‘Why would Germany be at war with Britain?’
‘We have no intention of being at war with our friends, of course.’ Herr Eicke began to walk up and down the room, staring at his feet awkwardly. When he looked up, his eyes seemed to pierce through to Hilda’s heart. ‘Should it come to war, you realize the Gestapo has to secure its borders.’
‘Naturally. That makes sense. Herr Eicke, I think you have a lively mind. You seem to enjoy playing games. Britain has no land borders, you realize?’
He seemed annoyed at her attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Then let me make myself clearer, Frau Richter. Your sister-in-law Renate and her husband Karl, Otto’s guardians. We don’t want any weakness there, do we?’
She looked down at her hands and found them so tightly clasped together that her knuckles were white. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and nipped her eyes as they ran down.
‘Most loyal Germans are keen to attend rallies when the opportunity arises,’ he went on. ‘I think I can say quite confidently that neither Karl nor Renate Richter have ever attended such grand occasions.’ He paused to allow her to absorb his allegations. ‘They may have to be given some... encouragement... perhaps?’
‘And just what do you mean by that?’ she asked, placing a defiant fist on her hip.
‘Times are changing. Everyone must change with them, everybody, with no exception, including Karl and Renate. We must all support and serve the Führer.’
She was incensed. ‘Karl and Renate do support him, as does Otto as you know. Karl is a busy dentist and his wife is his secretary. They work long hours.’
‘It’s my job to mend the cracks, Frau Richter. You don’t see them, do you?’
‘I only see what is right.’
He nodded slowly, clearly impressed by her determination. ‘Then we agree.’
Hilda had a strong sense that she had already lost the argument. She could not compete with Eicke; she could only confront him. She drew herself up to her full height and raised her chin. ‘What exactly are you expecting of me, Herr Eicke?’
Now he spoke a little more warmly ‘Troop movements in Scotland, Frau Richter. That would be interesting information for us. New and existing air bases too. We need their exact locations, please. Nothing else at present, I assure you. We will contact you when we need to.’ He clicked his heels and gave a little bow. ‘I am glad you see the need to remain loyal to the Fatherland. Rest assured that Renate and Karl will be treated fairly. As I said, you will hear from me or one of our agents abroad at the right time.’
Hilda was speechless. The wind had gone out of her sails. She stood aside to let him pass as he headed out of the lounge. He made for the front door with a parting shot.
‘Frau Richter, I have a very high regard for you and know you will not disappoint me.’
She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.
As the door closed firmly behind him, she sagged against the wall and groped for her handkerchief to dab her forehead. The German war machine had found her. She had become a cog in its grinding wheel. It had entrapped her.
It took her a moment longer to realize exactly what she had been asked to do. She has been asked to spy for Germany against Britain. Her real homeland.
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Ron